


Murder in Arcadia

by nonamesneeded



Category: The 100
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonamesneeded/pseuds/nonamesneeded
Summary: Inspired by a novel by James Patterson comes Murder in Arcadia.When a double homicide rocks a small seaside resort, it initially appears to be an open and shut case...but as Detective Lexa Woods looks further into the the case, not everything appears as it seems.





	Murder in Arcadia

Clarke Griffin stands precariously on the edge of the ladder, a hammer in hand. She didn't mind getting herself dirty when it came to her job but when it came to her own home, the task seemed tedious. Especially when it was rented. Still, it would only take another downpour and her leaky roof would become more like a man made waterfall. The landlord seemingly indifferent now the rent was coming into his bank account. Clarke removes her baseball cap, swiping her brow on her forearm before sweeping a hand through her flowing blonde locks - It was then that she had heard the sound from the car engine roaring up the driveway towards her. The quietness of their surroundings only seeming to escalate the sounds of the finely tuned engine and crunch of the gravel.

“Finn” she says to herself even before his Aston Martin convertible pulled up next to her beat up Cherokee. He should probably be more careful but back here in downtown Arcadia where Clarke lived, people didn't mingle with the wealthy so there was no real danger of this getting back to Finns wife, Raven Collins. It's not like her neighbours were going to run into his wife at a social event. The closest thing people like her have ever come to getting near a ball gown or tuxedo is by watching someone wear one in a movie on tv. Same zip code, different world.

Finn floats out his convertible like he was made to grace the covers of GQ magazine and Clarke feels that deep primal yearning that always accompanies her first sight of him. Finn Collins is one of those people for which good looks come naturally, a god given privilege. In his white chinos and designer shirt, he looks every bit the socialite that he is. There was just something about him that Clarke couldn't quite put her finger on, like he knew he didn't quite belong in the world of money and yet with his looks and charm, he slotted right in amongst the big dogs without anyone really noticing that he had always nice hailed from downtown Arkadia like herself.

Clarke climbs back down the ladder and follows him into the house watching him as he smoothly places down his jacket before turning and running towards her to plant a kiss to her lips, his hands travelling to her toned buttcheeks to firmly grasp.

“I thought you were in Polis” Clarke whispers as she pulls away with a shudder.

“Well that's not much of a greeting Princess. How about wow Finn, I'm so thrilled to see you”

“I am thrilled” and she is. She first saw Finn one year ago when she spotted him cleaning the pool on the Collins estate. At the time, she had been called in to re-decorate the interior and thought he was the pool man - she’d been mesmerised by him ever since but it had only been a month ago when their stars aligned. “I just didn't know you'd be here, I would have made myself look a bit more presentable”

“What? I love you like this...all sweaty, with leaves stuck in your hair and mud on your face” he gives a lopsided grin that Clarke wants to wipe off immediately with a kiss. The prospect of Finn had always been both exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating because she just couldn't get enough but terrifying because she already knew she was in deep with him.

The flame between them intensified as he ran his strong hands up her toned legs and across her impressive breasts. The air was thick and Clarke was struggling to breath as she whipped off her top to give him more access before working on the zipper of his white chinos.

“I'm going to leave her” he says through a sigh. “I can't go on like this, I'm going to do it”

“You can't…” Clarke stutters “she’ll kill...Finn...” she lets out a small gasp as Finns hands slide inside her panties.

He lifts her off her feet and carries her through the house, that he seems to have memorised like the back of his hand, to the bedroom. Backing up against the bedroom door with a bang that seems to coincide with another door outside.

He lays her down, pulling off her bra with ease and latches his lips around her nipple. His groin rubbing against her. Moments later, he lies between her legs, both completely naked, Clarke clasping onto the bed sheets that surround her, the pressure building until her bliss is cut short by the closing of another door and then another

“Someone's here” Clarke pants, scrambling away from Finn to pull some clothes back on “are you sure your wife doesn't…”

“I don't see how”

He doesn't see how? He's married to Raven Collins, one of the most influential people in the entire city of Arcadia with endless amounts of resources at her disposal and more money than a small country. She could have easily had him followed. Clarke takes a deep breath, keeping low on her hunches as she fights to control her heartbeat. She grabs her denim shorts, fetching the pocket knife out the back pocket

“Keep low, try not to make noise”

“Clarke…don't...”

Clarke hears the movement outside, not voices and nothing deliberate, which makes it worse - they aren't announcing themselves. Clarke stays low and slips out the bedroom but not before catching a glimpse out the window of bodies in motion...1..2..6..too many to count. Some rushing to the side of the house, some to the front. A small army descending on her house.

In the hallway now, she faces the front door knowing that there is little point in hiding. She is completely outnumbered and fighting against guns when all she has is the small pocket knife she usually uses to cut canvas. Her only option is to get them when they come in when they think they'd be sneaking in, unaware she'd be waiting. She has nothing to lose. adjusting her stance and tightening her grip on the knife handle, she watches as the handle turns, her pulse drumming against her ears, her breath caught in her throat.

She lunges forward as a woman steps through the front door, a dark haired woman dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, gun held at her side and badge dangling on a lanyard around her neck

a badge?

Clarke tries to halt her momentum as the woman quickly grapples her and throws her to the ground before Clarke can register what's happening. Her head smacking the ground, stars flashing before her eyes.

“Let go of the knife… NOW” the woman shouts, her weapon poised. “APD”

Clarke blinks hard, her heartbeat still hammering. APD...The Arcadia police?

“Toss the knife Clarke!” The dark haired woman shouts again as more officers flood in behind her

“Jesus...okay okay” Clarke drops the knife off to the side as the woman kicks it away quickly. The bile in her throats has risen, the searing pain behind her eyes pounding

“Don't move” another officer shouts as Finn appears. “Hands in the air!”

“Finn…” Clarke struggles against her restraints as the woman presses her further down against the floor

“Resist me again Clarke and I'll put you in hospital” despite her predicament, and the pain running through her head and the fear gripping her heart, she registers this cop for the first time. Her striking green eyes, her dark wavy hair that's pulled back to reveal chiselled cheek bones, her confidence.

“What - what is this?” She manages. Her initial feeling of relief that no one was going to kill her is short-lived especially with the amount of police flooding in from all directions, all wearing bulletproof vests and heavily armed.

“You don't have a right to do this” shouts Finn, clearly outraged. It comes out half protest, half lecture but all Clarke can see is the female cop staring down at her. She's in her underwear, flat on her back with the cops knee pressed to her rib cage.

“This is my home” Clarke protests further, “you only have to knock on my door and tell me if you have a problem with me”

“We have a problem with you Clarke” she says “there feel better?”

Clarke catches the eye of Detective Rhiannon Ontari, whom Clarke has known for years going back to school years. Ontari doesn't give much of a reaction, save a small shoulder shrug in Clarkes general direction.

The brunette orders Clarke to roll over, she cuffs her and pulls her to her feet. “This is ridiculous” Clarke argues “has Mr Baxter accused me of stealing or something? Just tell him to check down the back of the sofa...I'm a decorator not a thief!” It wouldn't be the first time one of the gazillionaires had lost something and then accused the help of pilfering it. “And do you think you brought enough cops with you?” Clarke huffed

“Is that why you've rushed at me with a knife Clarke?... because you thought I wanted to question you about petty theft?”

“She knows this isn't about theft” Clarke recognises the voice before she even sees Gustus Woods swagger into the house. He's been the chief of the Arcadia police department since Clarke was a little girl. Tall and broad, his gut now reaches over his belt and his hair has gone completely grey, showing that his age is slowly catching up with him. His voice however is still the same baritone voice it has always been. What the hell is the chief of police doing here?

“Detective” he says to the brunette “please take Miss Griffin here down to the station, I'll handle the search of her house”

“Will someone please tell me what's going on?” Clarke demands unable to hide the growing fear in her voice

“Happy to” says the chief “Clarke Griffin, you are under arrest for the murder of Bellamy Blake and Zoe Munroe”

 

* * *

 

The funeral for Bellamy Blake was heavily attended filling the pews and the Main Street outside. He was all of 26 years old, born and raised in Arcadia. He worked at the local coffee shop and was well known to the patrons and for his days on the school football team. With his sweeping brown locks it was no wonder many women in Arcadia found themselves swooning over the tops of their cups of coffee and that included Clarke Griffin who apparently had quite an affinity for Bellamy. It was only four days ago when Bellamy and his new love interest Zoe Munroe were found dead, victims of a brutal murder in a small rental property near the beach. The carnage was brutal enough the Bellamy was in a closed casket. So the crowd, whilst in part was due to Bellamys popularity amongst the local town folk, it was also in part due to the widespread morbid fascination with a double homicide in a small seaside resort. The overhead midday sun was glaring down enough for squinting eyes and sunglasses, both of which made it easier for me to do what I came for, which is to watch the people attending the funeral to see if anyone pings my radar. Some of these creeps like to come and check out the sorrow they have caused so it's standard practice to scan the crowds of crime scenes and their resulting funerals.

“Remind me why we are here, Detective Woods” asks my partner Rhiannon Ontari

“I'm paying my respects”

“You didn't even know Bellamy” she's correct, I didn't. I don't know anyone around here. Once upon a time, my family came here every summer to stay with my uncle Gustus and Aunt Indra. My memories of those summers - beaches, boat rides, fishing off the docks and crabbing amongst the rocks - were some of my favourite but it all ended at the age of eight. For some reason, I never knew, my family stopped coming after that. Since then, I haven't stepped foot in Arcadia until 2 months ago. “Not to mention the fact” Ontari adds “that we already have the killer sitting waiting for us back in custody”. Also true. We arrested Clarke Griffin yesterday. “...and just in case you forgot, this isn't even your case!”

Again - true. I'd led the arrest yesterday but hadn't been given the case. In fact the chief, my uncle, is leading it personally considering its high profile nature and public outcry. It's the kind of case that could cost the chief his job if he isn't careful. In fact, the towns own governor has been calling him on the hour for updates. So why am I here? Perhaps I'm bored, perhaps since I left Azgeda city, i’ve seen no action, and maybe its because I've handled more homicides in my 5 years on the force than all the cops in sleepy Arcadia have seen put together.

“Who's that?” I ask, gesturing across to a woman in ratty clothes and wandering deep set eyes. Lexa watched as the woman nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot, biting down on the skin around her nails.

Ontari pulled down her glasses to have a better look “oh that’s Allie Jones, she works for the church, tends to the graves”

“Looks like she slept in one too” Ontari guffaws. She liked that one.

“Seriously Woods! You still looking for a suspect or something ? With all you know about this case, which is fuck all by the way, you don't like Griffin for the murders?”

“I'm not saying that”

“You're not denying it either”

I consider that for a moment. She's right of course, what do I know about Clarke Griffin or the evidence against her on the case? She may not have jumped out at me as someone who'd just committed a brutal double murder, but then who does? I've seen many shocking things in my time, I once busted up a pedophile ring and the main ringleader was a kindergarten teacher. You never know people and I've known of Clarke Griffins existence for all of a day.

 

 

 

 


End file.
